


Trust Me

by IncandescentAntelope



Series: Chubby Yuuri Week 2019 [6]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Chubby Katsuki Yuuri, Fantasizing, Instagram, M/M, Masturbation, Phichit Chulanont is a Little Shit, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Shopping, Smut, The Freshman Fifteen, Weight Issues, Yuuri has a very active imagination, wearing each other's clothes (kind of)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-14 15:21:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20602994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IncandescentAntelope/pseuds/IncandescentAntelope
Summary: Yuuri gains the doomed freshman fifteen less than a month after beginning his first semester of college and Phichit tags along, helping him pick out a few new things. Including a shirt that looks awfully familiar.





	Trust Me

**Author's Note:**

> Written for day 6 of chubby yuuri week, the prompt is clothes! <3 This fic has accompanying art from my lovely friend Sav ([ @savsglasses](https://twitter.com/savsglasses))! Please follow her on twitter, read her fics ([YukisGlasses](https://archiveofourown.org/users/YukisGlasses) on AO3), and give her lots of love!

“Yuuri?” Phichit's voice floated over the divider in the dressing room. "Everything okay?"

The answer was most definitely _no_, given that Yuuri was trying his hardest not to cry in a fucking dressing room, but damn it, why didn't the jeans want to zip?

“Y-yeah, I’m fine--” Yuuri replied, biting down on his lower lip as it quivered traitorously. “Just trying to make these jeans fit.” Yuuri answered truthfully, knowing that Phichit wouldn’t hesitate to call his bluff. “How’s it going over there?”

Phichit was silent for a moment as Yuuri continued to wiggle his hips into the stubborn jeans. They weren’t budging, but Yuuri knew that they _had_ to fit. He just bought new pants before he left for the States, less than half a semester ago. Damn Detroit and all the delicious fast food within walking distance of their dorm. Even with the rigorous exercise he and Phichit underwent for training, Yuuri _still_ gained weight.

“Alright… are you sure you’re okay? I can come in to help if you want, Yuuri.” Phichit finally responded, the rustling of clothing from his stall had ceased. Despite the two of them only having been friends for a few months, the two did very little without each other; being two of the few foreign students on campus, they tended to stick together, and that included an outing to the mall, when Yuuri complained that his old hoodie was tearing at the seams. (Phichit, of course, had read between the lines on that one. It was too small.)

“No, I’m… I’m fine, Phich, don’t worry about it.” Yuuri said, grunting softly as the jeans simply wouldn’t go up past mid-thigh. “Just-- jeans.”

“Just jeans?” Phichit asked, a small laugh in his question. “Are you sure you don’t need help, Yuuri? Because I’m two seconds from just coming over there.”

Yuuri bit his lip. "I…" he began, letting his voice trail off in enough of an admission for Phichit.

"Cover up, I'm coming in." His roommate said matter-of-factly, “Or don’t, I’ve already seen your butt plenty of times.” he snickered as Yuuri turned around to unlock the stall. Embarrassment flooded his cheeks for a moment, but it quickly receded as soon as Phichit slipped into the stall behind him, wrapping his arms around his middle in a crushing hug.

“Phich…” Yuuri squirmed in his roommate’s hug, trying to worm his way out of the contact. Phichit’s arms were squishing into his bare stomach, since Yuuri had taken off his shirt a few minutes ago when tugging the jeans up had made him break a sweat. “Phiiiiiiiich…” he asserted again, but Phichit didn’t relent.

“You sound like you needed a hug.” the Thai skater said simply, giving him one more tight squeeze before finally letting go. “So. ‘Jeans’, huh?”

Yuuri flushed and stared at himself in the mirror, trying not to let the embarrassment get to him at his current state of dress; a pair of simple blue briefs and a pair of too-tight jeans digging into his thighs. “They don’t fit.” he answered simply, not wanting to admit just how embarrassed he was by the entire ordeal. “I just… this size should fit me…”

Phichit eyed him carefully and nodded. “Yeah, maybe this store has weird sizing.” he said, and while Yuuri knew he was just going along with him to make him feel better, it still helped him feel better. “Did you find anything else that you like?” Phichit asked, quickly diverting from the jeans clinging to his legs.

“Uh… y-yeah, I found a few t-shirts…” Yuuri stammered, pointing at the hook on the wall, where two simple cotton t-shirts hung.

“These are nice! And the colors will look great on you, Yuuri.” Phichit said, giggling at his friend’s bashful fashion sense. Yuuri tended to wear simple styles, preferring to blend in with basic staples like dark wash jeans and t-shirts, with the sweatshirt thrown in every now and again. “Hey, y’know what, I’m gonna go find you some stuff, okay? You get these jeans off, and I’ll be back in a minute.” Phichit replied, patting Yuuri’s butt before slipping back out into the store.

Yuuri worked the jeans off his thighs, wiggling out of the tight denim and hanging them back up on the wall, avoiding the body reflected at him in the mirror. His belly looked so squishy, his hips were growing embarrassingly quickly; so much so that he had counted five new stretch marks running along the curves of his hips that morning, and even a few that ran south from his belly button to his waist. His thighs had swollen up as well, but they had always been… well, large. Phichit lovingly teased him and his “thunder thighs”, but his thighs were one of the secret ingredients to his stamina on the ice.

Before he realized it had happened, Yuuri was poking and prodding at his stomach in the mirror, as if poking it would make it go away. As if poking it would help him keep the weight off before he and Phichit had to get back on the ice for the season.

A knock on the door startled him from his squishing and squeezing. “Hey, Yuuri? I’m coming in--” Phichit said, settling Yuuri’s nerves almost immediately. He would hate to have to face anyone else looking like this.

“O-okay,” Yuuri answered, stepping to the side so the door opening inward would shield his mostly-naked body from view.

“‘Kay! I found a lot of really cute stuff for you, Yuuri. I can stay in here while you change, or I can wait outside for you to give me a little fashion show.” his roommate teased, waggling his eyebrows as he hung up at least twenty garments.

Yuuri choked at the thought of giving Phichit a _fashion show_, or even letting another human being see him trying on clothes right now. “I, um… you can stay in here.” he answered after a few moments of deliberation. “I don’t really want to show off, you know?”

Phichit giggled and nodded, opting not to press Yuuri. It was clear he was struggling with his confidence, given the sudden change in his weight and his body’s shape. But God, his squishy little tummy was too cute. (It also makes for a much softer, warmer cuddling experience, in Phichit’s humble opinion.)

“Okay! Let’s try on _these_ jeans instead.” Phichit said, holding up a pair of jeans identical to the ones Yuuri had been wearing. Well, identical aside from the very obvious difference in cut.

“_Skinny jeans_?! Phichiiiiiit…” Yuuri began to complain, but Phichit silenced his protest with an incredulous eyebrow lifted high on his forehead.

“Yes, skinny jeans. I know your frame, and they’ll look fantastic on you. Now stop whining and get your butt in the pants.” he said, thrusting the dark material into Yuuri’s hands, not allowing for more complaining. Yuuri furrowed his brow and huffed at his best friend, exasperated. Nevertheless, he unbuttoned the pants and stepped in, one leg at a time, and pulled them up over his thighs with no resistance.

“Wh… whoa…” he breathed, his mouth agape as the jeans slipped on perfectly, and buttoned without struggle. “I... “

“I know! Okay, okay, now turn around. Look at your ass, Yuuri. It looks _incredible_.” Phichit fawned, and Yuuri did as he was told, turning on his heel to see what Phichit was squealing about. While his hips and tummy _did_ hang out a bit over the waistband, the jeans weren’t uncomfortable… and Yuuri almost gasped aloud when he saw just what the pants did for his ass and thighs. Everything looked smooth and pulled together, and his butt curled perfectly at the tops of his plush thighs. The dark denim too, did a fantastic job of hiding what Yuuri was most self conscious of, the uneven muscling of his outer thighs compared to the inner…

“Wow…” he breathed again, and Phichit giggled behind him.

“You look fant_ass_tic, Yuuri~” he teased, pulling a crimson t-shirt from the stack of selections. It was soft and had a v-neck, which dove down a bit further than what Yuuri usually wore, but Phichit had a feeling that he would look incredible in it. “Here, put this on.” he said, handing off the garment and watching as Yuuri eagerly pulled on over his shoulders.

Yuuri felt a smile crawl across his features as the shirt draped over his belly and hips _just_ right. “The neck is so low…” he mused, not necessarily complaining about it, mostly just amused that he liked how he looked so much more than he had anticipated.

“I know, and you look great!” Phichit chirped, pulling a black and red flannel from the rack too, passing it to him. “Put this on top, God knows you need cute some fall outfits, Yuuri… we’ve been invited to too many harvest parties not to dress like the flannel bisexual that you are.”

Yuuri yelped in the middle of sliding his arms into the shirt. “Phichit! Sh-shut up,” Yuuri laughed, trying not to giggle at the shit-eating grin on Phichit’s face. “God, you’re the worst!” he squeaked, throwing the ill-fitting jeans at his chest.

“And you love me~” Phichit laughed back, winking at him in the mirror. “Oh, you look so cute!” he said, smiling that megawatt smile, brighter than the sun. “All that’s missing is a beanie, maybe some Docs… and you’ll be the belle of the ball!”

Yuuri flushed as red as the t-shirt and shrugged. “Y-you know I’m not looking for anyone…”

“I know, I know. But still. Maybe someone will want to get you a drink at least.” Phichit laughed and pulled another outfit together from the pile of clothes he had brought in. “Okay. Let’s do another one, yeah?”

Yuuri peeled his attention away from the mirror and turned to see what exactly Phichit had picked out for him, but he snorted a laugh the moment he saw it.

“Phich, those jeans…” he giggled. “They’re…”

“Yes, they’re orange. Now don’t argue with me, I know what I’m doing.” Phichit assured him, and quickly pulled the clothes off him. “You’re gonna want to cuff these,” he explained, kneeling down and rolling the jeans twice at the ends once they were on and buttoned. “But you already cuff everything, you fiend, so that’s nothing new.” Yuuri blushed again, but said nothing. His penchant for showing off his ankles in just about everything was well-known to Phichit.

“Okay…” Yuuri mumbled; the struggle with the jeans earlier had all but slipped from his mind as trying to stay still while Phichit fussed over him. “You’re sure the orange is the right choice?”

“I thought I told you to keep quiet about that, you dingus.” Phichit grumbled, finally standing up to his full height again and handing him the quarter-sleeved shirt. Yuuri’s breath caught in his throat when he got a good look at the shirt, a lightweight white cotton with thin, horizontal blue stripes crossing it. It looked like…

“Oh my god, Yuuri, that looks like Viktor’s shirt!” Phichit squeaked as he finally recognized it. Something familiar had tugged at him when he saw it on the rack, but now he knew for sure. “Yeah! It looks like that one shirt he always wears! Didn’t he just post a picture of himself wearing it on Insta?” Phichit asked, picking up his phone from the small stool where Yuuri had left it.

Sure enough, he found a photo of the Russian skater wearing that shirt, the hem of it just barely glancing over the waist of his well-fit jeans, revealing a tempting sliver of skin that Yuuri would literally die to lick right now, if he was honest.

_image: Viktor Nikiforov, reclining on the expensive-looking couch in his living room, reading a book with his teddy bear poodle laying on his stomach. The font on the book is French, but it’s clearly some kind of classic. He’s smiling up at the camera, the photo clearly being taken by someone else, like he’s been caught in a candid moment by a friend._

**30,964 likes**  
**v-nikiforov** pc @christophe-gc for interrupting my reading 😋 just enjoying a weekend off before starting training for the Grand Prix series! #goingforgold #золото #howcuteismakkachin 🐩🥇⛸️

**christophe-gc** don’t act like you didn’t beg for the picture after I was done taking it 😘  
**georgiii** don’t get lazy now vitya 😉  
**milababe-cheva** stooping to thirst traps are you, vitya?  
**v-nikiforov** нет, intelligence traps 😘😘😘  
_view more comments…_

“Oh my god…” Phichit breathed, looking between the photo and Yuuri’s shirt, now hanging off him perfectly. “You know what, I’m gonna be right back.” he said, hurrying out of the dressing room without explanation, leaving Yuuri to his own imagination and the image on Phichit’s phone.

He double tapped the image without thinking, knowing that Phichit usually liked just about everything he saw on his feeds, and usually sent Yuuri Viktor’s posts given that he wasn’t quite so interested in scrolling aimlessly like Phichit was. Viktor looked so attractive all laid out on the couch like that, relaxed and comfortable in his own apartment, reading a book… in a shirt just like the one Yuuri was wearing. Yuuri shook himself from the thoughts of _wearing Viktor’s shirt_ and set the phone aside, reaching for the denim jacket Phichit had brought him with the rest of the clothing.

This too, fit him like a glove, and he couldn’t deny that Phichit had impeccable taste… he looked nice, fashionable. And the parts of his body that he wasn’t too fond of were hidden from view well enough that Yuuri wouldn’t be too uncomfortable wearing something like this out and about… maybe to one of those parties Phichit had been invited to. (Yuuri was always his plus one, given how soft-spoken and shy Yuuri usually was in class.)

Again, Phichit knocked on the door and slid back into the stall, holding another shirt, just like the one he was already wearing. But this one was… _much_ bigger.

“Phich, this one fits me just fine, it’s not too big or small…”

“No, shhh, listen. I grabbed you a double-x. You're gonna get both of them. I thought you’d like to have this one too. For reasons.” Phichit said cryptically, not providing any real explanation.

“That’s not helpful--” Yuuri began, but a soft, knit beanie hitting him in the face interrupted him.

“Shhh, just wear it to bed tonight, you’ll get it.” Phichit said, before fussing over the hat again, making it slouch on his head just right. Yuuri dropped the subject and laughed when he realized that the beanie had small, pointed ears knit into it. “Awww, you look like a cat, Yuuri!” Phichit exclaimed, clearly seeing it for the first time too. “This will be so cute on the ice, Ciao Ciao will love it!”

Yuuri smiled and nodded, admiring the full outfit, put together completely in the mirror. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, a burst of confidence rolled over him as he opened the camera app and lifted it at arm’s length, facing the two of them. “Let’s take a picture.” Yuuri said, and Phichit squealed loudly enough that Yuuri nearly pocketed his phone in protest.

“Okay, okay, okay. I’m sorry. You just never want to take selfies with me! I’m surprised!” Phichit said, giggling as he tucked himself in close to Yuuri’s side and looked up at his best friend’s phone, still protected in that fading, powder blue case with cartoon poodles on it. He threw up twin victory signs and Yuuri snapped the photo before immediately handing it off to Phichit.

“Okay, post it. I don’t care where.” Yuuri said with a smirk before pulling the beanie from his head and eyeing the pile of clothes left to try on.

* * *

Yuuri’s wallet screamed in agony when he pulled out his debit card and paid the uncomfortably high price tag for the clothing he and Phichit had picked out, trying not to think too hard about how much instant ramen he would need to eat to make up for the loss and still afford books come the winter semester.

When they had finally made it back to the dorm, Yuuri shrugged into his new hoodie, (yes, Phichit had found him a replacement for the old one, the original reason why they went to the store in the first place) and tossed his dirty laundry into the hamper in the corner of his tiny bedroom, opting to just work in his hoodie and briefs.

After settling at his desk to get a bit of studying in before their customary late dinner, Yuuri’s mind began to wander back to the XXL striped shirt at the bottom of his shopping bag; what exactly had Phichit meant when he told him he’d understand later? He pulled his earbuds out and dumped out the bag, pulling the larger of the two striped shirts out and held it up to his frame, admiring the way it laid over his body.

He pulled the hoodie off and let it fall to the ground, and pushed his arms and head into the shirt. The extra-extra large fit like a dress on him, hanging just over his ass and loosely off one shoulder. He caught the image of himself in the full-length mirror on the wall and couldn’t ignore how he looked; his hair mussed from taking off the hoodie, he looked like he had just rolled out of bed and thrown a shirt on.

A shirt that looked just like...

Oh.

_Viktor's shirt._

He understood what Phichit meant now, looking at himself, wearing a shirt too large for him, his bare legs underneath… he snatched up his phone, locked his bedroom door and practically dove into bed, searching Instagram to find Viktor’s profile, and that photo. _God_, that photo.

He imagined that he himself had taken the photo, relaxing with Viktor in his living room on a lazy afternoon, doing nothing but reading and listening to the rain patter against the windows overlooking Saint Petersburg. Maybe he had dozed off in the comfortable chair he had seen in Viktor’s photos, the oversized leather rocking chair that he knew Makkachin liked to nap on.

He smiled softly at the thought, but as soon as he saw the teasing grin on Viktor’s face, something deeper, warmer, coiled in his gut. He imagined what would have followed him snapping a candid photo like that, what kinds of things Viktor would have said to him. Maybe he set down that book, stood from the couch and sauntered over to him, leaned over him and tickled him for interrupting his reading. Maybe he would have kissed his cheeks and forehead for being silly… perhaps those kisses strayed from his cheeks to his lips, and a small sigh of Viktor’s name from Yuuri’s lips would ignite something different entirely in Viktor’s core too.

_“Yuuri…_” The Viktor in his mind whispered in his ear, _“You know better than to interrupt…”_ his voice was low and honeyed, teasing and accented with his native Russian. Yuuri’s stomach twisted at the thought. Maybe he’d play at an apology… let Viktor teach him his lesson. Maybe Viktor would instruct him to follow him to bed, that large, king-sized bed he had posed in for a Russian magazine that Yuuri had spent far too much on to justify what he used it for.

Yuuri’s hand found itself teasing the waistband of his briefs as he navigated to the saved files from that photoshoot, through the few password-protected folders he had hidden on his phone. He tapped the folder he had been searching for and let his imagination carry him away again.

Viktor looked utterly perfect, tangled up in billowing white sheets, the long, trim lines of his torso exposed to the camera, save for the part that Yuuri would be more than happy to map out with his tongue.

There was speculation, of course, about Viktor’s size and his _talent_ in bed… and Yuuri swiped through the album, finding each photo more attractive than the one before, until he came to the one he so often found himself admiring.

An artist had… well… _fixed_ the photo. They removed the sheet draped carefully over Viktor’s pelvis and shopped in what was missing from the photo. Something that Yuuri had imagined so many times filling him up, whether it was in his mouth or elsewhere. He flushed as he rolled onto his side, shielding his body and his phone from the door and wiggled his hips out of his briefs.

_“So dirty, Yuuri…”_ imagination Viktor whispered in his ear as his erect cock sprung free, already flushed and leaking. _“Touching yourself like this for me…”_ Yuuri whined and buried his sounds in the crook of his elbow, not wanting Phichit to hear any of his more embarrassing noises. The loose neck of the shirt he was wearing had drooped down around his chin, and Yuuri quickly took it between his teeth, grinding out a moan of Viktor’s name, hushed and reverent.

The artist’s rendering of Viktor was mouthwatering, long and flushed and hard against his hip, a small, glistening pool of precome sparkled on his skin. Yuuri had spent so many nights imagining himself speared open on it, and today was no different.

Maybe Viktor had pulled him down into bed, and had been the one riling him up all along, teasing his sensitive skin and kissing along the curve of his jaw, the line of his throat. His hand would dip lower, lower, lower, before finally cupping him gently, rolling his balls in his hand.

_"Yuuri… do you need someone to help you with this_?" Viktor rumbled in his mind, Yuuri's cock twitching against his chubby belly. He nodded, of course, giving in completely to the fantasy.

Yuuri reached between his bed and the cinder block wall for the bottle of lotion he had stashed there. He added a healthy dollop of it to his hand and began stroking himself in earnest, biting back the heavy breaths and needy moans that fell from his lips. He easily lost himself in the sensation of his hand around his cock, still hanging on to the image of Viktor stroking him, Viktor teasing him, Viktor’s hands wrapped around his hips, digging into the squish there.

_"Ohh Yuuri… so needy for me, aren't you?"_

His hips began stuttering, the thought of Viktor touching him coiling hotly in his core, wet breaths leaving tiny wet patches in the fabric of his shirt. He thrust into the tightness of his fist, imagining those strong hands taking him apart, long fingers stretching him open slowly. Gentle words of praise whispered into his ears sweet as honey.

He canted his hips up and back off the bed and leaned his phone against the headboard, his teeth still gripping tightly at the collar of the shirt. He reached behind himself with his lotioned hand and circled the rim of his hole, moaning at the sensation when he dipped a slick finger inside.

The Viktor in his imagination clicked his tongue at him. _“So dirty, Yuuuuu-ri. Looking at such a dirty picture and fingering yourself?”_ Yuuri whined at the way imaginary Viktor’s accent curled around his name so perfectly, rolling the soft ‘uu’ sound like wine on his tongue. He nodded his head, pushing another finger in and losing himself deeper in the fantasy of Viktor preparing him to be filled up by the length in that doctored photo. _“Does that feel good, Yuuri? Tell me what you want...” _

“V-Viktor, fuck, _fuck me, please_…” Yuuri heard his own voice moan as he added another finger.

_“What a sight. My sweet little Yuuri, fucking himself and thinking about me. So sexy~”_ Imaginary Viktor said. Yuuri moaned into the shirt, pushing his hips back onto his own fingers, pretending for all the world it was Viktor’s thick, flushed cock splitting him open. He wrapped his left hand around himself, stroking as he rapidly approached the edge.

“Viktor, please, w-want you so m-muuch… Viktor, Viktor, Vi-hiiiiktor...” He moaned his name over and over like a prayer, thrusting into his fist and back onto his fingers, sweat rolling down the nape of his neck and the curve of his spine, his legs beginning to shake with pre-orgasm.

_“Come for me, Yuuri…”_ Imagination Viktor moaned breathlessly in Yuuri’s ear, the sound he had heard in an interview, in a completely different context, of course, but he never forgot it. Yuuri saw stars, coming so hard his lower back spasmed with the effort of it, ragged moans of Viktor’s name fell off his lips as his body emptied into the rumpled blankets below him. His legs gave out, dropping to the bed. And into the small pool of come he had left there.

A few minutes later, when Yuuri could feel his toes and fingertips again, he collected himself and rolled out of bed, a bit annoyed that he had made a mess of his duvet. Again. His phone pinged with a text from Phichit, and Yuuri nearly squeaked at the sudden noise.

_**Phichit** (sent 19:06) are you done whacking it yet? i want pizzaaaaaaa_🍕🍕🍕😭😭😭  
_**Phichit** (sent 19:06) did you at least wear the shirt???????_

* * *

Halfway across the world, another phone lit up in the dark. Viktor groaned at the sudden interruption of his sleep, but Chris didn’t text in the middle of the night without reason. He rubbed bleary, sleepy eyes awake and sloppily searched for his glasses with a blind hand. (He didn’t always have to wear them, but they were much more agreeable to his eyes in the morning and late at night.)

_**Chris**_ ❤️_ (sent 03:47) hate to interrupt your beauty sleep, vitya, but you should really go check your instagram_  
_**Chris**_ ❤️_ (sent 03:47) trust me_

Viktor groaned and opened the app in question, seeing that he had been sent a DM, from Chris. Of course. He couldn’t be bothered just to send it via text.

He opened the message and squinted in confusion at the post Chris had sent him, of two attractive, younger men posing together in what looked like a changing room. Both of them were dressed fashionably, clearly preparing for the autumn season, but when he tapped through to the original post, he saw that it hadn’t been posted by a brand, or even by someone with a notable following. The post only had two likes, despite being posted almost three hours ago, one from Chris, and another from the man tagged in the photo.

**2 likes**  
**y.katsuki** hijacked by @phichit+chu~~~ we found a few new outfits for yuuri today! doesn't he look cute???? #bestfriendgoals #offseasonfun #supercute #superdateable 😉😉😉

Yuuri. Viktor recognized that name. Navigating to his profile he found more images of Katsuki Yuuri, an up-and-coming figure skater from Japan. Oh, yes. Viktor had seen that face before. He almost hadn't recognized him with the sweet extra pudge on his cheeks, but he definitely remembered Chris pointing him out at one point or another.

_**me** (sent 03:49) aww, he’s a cutie_   
_**me** (sent 03:49) keeping an eye on your competition, hm?_   
_**Chris** ❤️ (sent 03:50) something like that. 😉_   
_**Chris** ❤️ (sent 03:50) yuuri and i met last year, he's a sweetheart_

Viktor scrolled back to the post, that picture of Katsuki Yuuri and his friend Phichit. Yuuri’s pretty ambery-gold eyes sparkled up at the camera, his smile looked like he had been caught in the middle of a laugh. Yuuri looked adorable in the orange jeans he was wearing, the slightly askew cat eared beanie sitting lopsided on his head. And though he had to squint for a moment to see it, there was a slight push of a round, chubby tummy underneath his shirt.

It seemed Yuuri was enjoying a bit of rest and relaxation too, Viktor laughed softly to himself. God, he was adorable. A comment popped up just as he was enjoying the image, posted by Phichit.

**phichit+chu** i picked out his shirt, does it remind you of anyone? 🤭🇷🇺⛸️🥇

Viktor choked on nothing but air as he re-examined the shirt, seeing that it was nearly identical to the one lying on the floor, shucked just moments before collapsing into bed. His thumb, hovering just too close to the screen, tapped the small, red heart at the end of the comment, liking it on accident. He scrambled to unlike it, in some push to preserve his usual brand of casual and disaffected, but as soon as he went to tap the little heart again, the comment disappeared.

He immediately returned to his conversation with Chris, his mind spinning.

_**me** (sent 03:51) he_  
_**me** (sent 03:51) that’s_  
_**Chris** ❤️ (sent 03:51) your shirt, mon ami_ 😉

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this one~ I had a lot of fun writing this one! 
> 
> ❤️ IA ❤️  
[Tumblr](https://incandescentantelope.tumblr.com) | [ Twitter](https://twitter.com/IAtheAuthor)
> 
> 💜 Chubby Yuuri Week Links 💜  
[Tumblr ](https://chubbyyuuriweek.tumblr.com) | [Twitter](https://twitter.com/chubbyyuuriweek)


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